


Set List

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [22]
Category: Glee
Genre: Brothership, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-22
Updated: 2011-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sixties, PFLAG, and another visitor from Wisconsin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Teaser

To be perfectly honest--and there’s no point in _not_ being perfectly honest, as far as Finn’s concerned--Finn hadn’t ever really given much thought to PFLAG from the moment Kurt first told him about it to the point where Kurt informed him they’d be having the first meeting on the following Tuesday. Finn’s all about supporting Kurt, and he’s all about everybody getting educated and being cool with gay people, but he just didn’t _think_ too much about PFLAG.

He doesn’t think about PFLAG much until the first meeting, that is, when all it takes is one look at those teensy little freshmen to know that there’s a damn good reason for PFLAG and an even better damn reason for Finn to go. That tiny Casey kid? Who’s he got looking out for him? His giant scared eyes at the first meeting makes Finn think that the answer is probably “not much of anybody,” and it’s becoming increasingly clear that between school and home, Casey takes a lot of shit, and Finn doesn’t like it. Not one bit.

So Finn’s not really coming to PFLAG to support Kurt any more. Kurt knows Finn loves him and has his back, but those other guys (and girls) maybe don’t have that. Maybe each of them has a situation as bad as Casey’s, maybe even worse, and PFLAG might be the only safe spot in their day.

Finn knows he can’t really be the bodyguard for the world. There’s only one of him and he’s already pulled in a billion different directions. He can’t walk each of these kids to class. He can’t ride home with them. He can’t confront their parents. He can’t fix the world for them. What he can do, though, is give them that safe place. He can show them that not everybody is an asshole, that straight people who care about them are out there. He can enforce the rules of privacy they established in the first PFLAG meeting.

It’s not enough. It’s not everything Finn wants to do. It’s something, though. It’s what Finn can bring to the table. Getting a smile or even better, a laugh, out of someone like Casey? Sometimes that does feel like almost enough to make the whole world seem like a better place.

 

It’s not anything like Rick expected. Nobody’s making out or doing each other’s hair or anything. Nobody’s dressed in drag. Everybody’s wearing normal clothes, mostly. There’s nothing creepy or weird or particularly _queer_ about sitting around in a circle with everybody and then having a snack after. Hell, he even learns some stuff, which surprises him.

Rick doesn’t really hate the gays. He just didn’t give them much thought before. He didn’t think about them as people; it was more like _the gay_ was a concept, something gross that Rick didn’t want to think about too much. The gays were just _out there_ somewhere, being queer. Not a part of Rick’s circle. Not in Lima, other than Hudson’s brother.

 _Kurt_. His name is Kurt, and he’s actually not a bad dude if you get past the clothes, which are still just pretty fucking weird, and that annoying little thing he does with his hair. Weird clothes and fussy hair, but he welcomes Rick in and treats him decently, even answers his probably stupid-sounding questions. Kurt doesn’t have to do that, but he does it anyway. Johannson and Fordham and Rick haven’t done anything but make fun of Kurt all year, and Kurt still treats Rick like a decent human being, not like some kind of lowlife that’s being forced to sit through meetings because he was a party to something horible.

And yeah, Rick’s still not down with watching two guys make out. It makes him uncomfortable, and he isn’t sure why, which makes him even more uncomfortable, and now he feels a little guilty on top of it, which makes him just that extra bit more uncomfortable. But maybe he oughta feel a little guilty. He’s said some awful shit _to_ people and _about_ people, and looking around the PFLAG circle, Rick has to admit that they are _people_. Not some gross concept. Not some stereotype to make fun of. People with faces and problems and pain. They’re individuals, not the butt of some nasty joke Fordham’s telling or some scary group of guys who want to kidnap Rick and either have buttsex with him or make him change his wardrobe.

Maybe there’ll be a point where Rick doesn’t feel uncomfortable. He’s not there yet, but maybe he’s getting there. Slowly.

 

Miles Brown never thought about going to a PFLAG meeting. Hell, six months ago, he didn’t even know what PFLAG _was_. That was one of those things that a football player in Lima, Ohio just didn’t know about, and he probably would have continued down that path if it weren’t for, well, the seniors on the football team.

Four of them were in the glee club, too, and _tight_ , and Hudson’s brother was the resident school queer. Miles doesn’t mean it in a mean way; he’s pretty sure Hummel would own the title with the smile. Karofsky’s not in glee club, and there used to be _way_ too much tension there, but this year, it’s all gone, and the five of them are all in PFLAG.

So Brown knows it’s not social suicide for a wide receiver to show up at PFLAG, because the five of them have been there from the beginning, and then he heard Coach and Rickenbacker were attending, too. Sure, it’s some kind of punishment for Rickenbacker, better than being kicked off the team, but that’s six of the starting roster plus Coach, and if anyone asks? Miles’ll talk about his lesbian second cousin in Bristol outside Philly.

Miles doesn’t go the first time he intends to go, though, right after Puckerman gets beat up by those two sophomore screw-ups, and it still takes a little courage to walk in the door. Miles isn’t _gay_ , but he’s pretty sure he’s not _straight_ , either. There’s a few friendly faces in the room, and he decides the safest course is to sit between Puckerman and Hummel, who seem to get along pretty well.

Puckerman’s greeting is a little terse, though, and Miles can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable with the way Hummel seems to trying to decide if he wants to attack him or merely glare at him until he moves. Well, Miles isn’t going to move; he doesn’t know why Hummel nor Puckerman seem not to want him there, but the meeting’s open to everyone, and he’s staying.

Even Hudson seems startled to see Brown there, and his head bends towards Puckerman’s almost as soon as they sit down.

Miles can’t help but feel like he stepped into something he was completely unaware of. Once the meeting starts, it seems to mostly disappear, but it was still odd. Maybe he’s not been as discreet as he thought he had been; he’s just been trying to figure out what’s going on in his own mind, and he knew someone like Puckerman wasn’t going to beat him up.

He probably should have kept his mouth shut about those bruises, though.


	2. 3x06

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [playlist for this episode](http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLCA90B21C73F3BF80)

Kurt comes to Starbucks at the end of Puck’s shift again, this time opening up his laptop before Puck even sits down. “Why are we here again?”

“Because if we start discussing Chicago where your mother can hear us, we may never get to the stage of ‘the reservations are made and we’re going,’” Kurt explains.

“Good point,” Puck concedes. “So. What are we looking at?”

“I _think_ a lot of things are within walking distance of the downtown hotels,” Kurt frowns. “It’ll be a great chance to see how warm I can manage to stay.”

Puck chuckles. “Yeah, it will. So there’s lots of stuff to do?”

“Yes, though I think we should focus on just a few things. Maybe a show, Second City, a little shopping, and ice skating?”

“Whatever _will_ we do with the extra time, blue eyes?” Puck murmurs. “Maybe walk around the city?”

“Oh, well, if that’s what you’d rather do,” Kurt grins. “I thought I might need some helping thawing out after we’ve been out in the brutal cold, though.”

“I can help with that, if you need,” Puck assures him, matching Kurt’s grin. “What else have you found for us?”

“There’s some sort of winter festival at the Navy Pier, and an interesting looking restaurant. I really think that will be enough. We can leave early on the 28th and then wait to drive back as late as possible on the 31st. I’m sure there will be something where people will expect to see us on New Year’s Eve, though.”

“Probably.” Puck leans back in his chair. “You really think your dad will let you do this?”

“I have no idea,” Kurt admits. “I have no previous experience upon which to base a guess. In theory, it could go either way. I’m eighteen, I’m responsible, I’ve been driving for years, and there’s really nothing we could do in Chicago that we can’t manage to do here. On the other hand, letting me go to Chicago is doing more than denying it or turning a blind eye–it’s outright condoning. Which may be the sticking point.” Kurt sighs. “Unless, of course, your mom talks to Carole _and_ Carole talks to my dad _and_ he decides to talk to me, all before we tell them this plan.”

Puck nods. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“What about your mom?”

Puck shrugs. “Mom’s got... a few big blind spots. I mean, she has us watch _Schindler’s List_ every year–Hannah, too, and that’s been since Hannah was two. It’s not really cool, y’know? That kind of thing. So... she’ll probably make a face or two and then shrug and tell me to make sure and remind her when I’ll be gone. She’ll be more upset about missing the last night of Hanukkah, just on principle.”

“Hopefully, anyway.”

“Yeah, hopefully.” Puck shrugs again. “So we have a plan?”

“I think so. One night this week we can look at hotels and all of that. And now,” Kurt looks at the time on his phone, “we should either work or head to your place and work. Since we have to be at Rachel’s at 7. Oh, and we’re swinging by to give Finn a ride.”

“Kay. Let’s head out of here, I can change and all that shit.”

“I do like the smell of coffee.”

“But black polo shirts that are stained with coffee, not so much, I’m thinking.”

Kurt wrinkles his nose. “Point.”

Once Puck gets home, he decides to go ahead and shower, especially since Hannah latches on to Kurt and pulls him towards her room, asking his opinion on something. After he gets done, though, he finds Kurt on his bed, silently reading.

For a moment, an image flashes through his brain, of a much older Kurt, maybe in his forties, sitting on a bed somewhere, reading, reading glasses perched on his nose, and it makes Puck’s breath catch a little and his chest ache. He pauses where he is, watching Kurt, and then Kurt looks up and smiles. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Puck returns the smile. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking’s dangerous, didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”

“I have heard that,” Puck nods. “But then they keep sending us to school, so.”

“Good point.”

“I told Mom we needed to eat a little earlier, because of the rehearsal.”

Kurt nods. “All right. You have any reading to do?”

When Puck nods, Kurt scoots to one side of the bed, clearly making room for Puck, and Puck settles beside him, their arms falling behind each other. Puck moves a little closer to Kurt, the pillows behind them providing a little support as they adjust their position.

Dinner’s a very garlicky brisket and some roasted sweet potatoes, along with a salad, of course, but nothing quite gets rid of the strong garlicky taste, not even five minutes spent laughing about it in the bathroom with a toothbrush (Puck) and a finger (Kurt).

“I suppose we should head towards Super-Sleuth’s,” Puck concedes finally. “You said we’re getting Finn?”

“Yes, it didn’t make much sense for him to drive, I figured, since here and home are much closer than home and Rachel’s.”

“Right.” They head out, and Rina calls at them to have fun as they close the door behind them. “It’ll be something, anyway,” Puck says wryly, and Kurt laughs.

Finn’s waiting on the porch when Kurt pulls up, and he jogs over to the Nav and climbs inside. “Hey guys, looking forward to getting started on the next set list?” Finn pipes. “I’m totally ready!”

Kurt looks over at Puck with a brief expression of panic, and Puck fleetingly wonders what, exactly, they have unleashed. “Sure,” Puck says with a nod. “It’ll be a different process than before, for sure.”

“Better!” Finn asserts. “It’s gonna be a lot better. We’re _really_ awesome at this.”

“Of course,” Kurt nods. “We’re not obsessed with the ‘80s so we’re already ahead of the game.”

Puck snorts. “That does help. So what’s the plan, dude?”

“Um, well, I think this needs to be an actual group project, right?” Finn says. “I’d like everyone to maybe make a list of songs... _three_ songs! Yeah, three songs each that they’d like to do for Sectionals. Then we’ll look and see if the same songs show up on multiple lists, for starters, and then we’ll start talking about what songs we thing might make good group numbers,” he finishes, in a rush. He takes a deep breath. “Does that sound right?”

“Are we gonna have Mike choreograph for us again? ‘Cause if we want him to, we might should have him pick some songs he knows he can do it for, and we vote on those, at least for one of the songs.”

“And are we going to do any original songs?” Kurt adds.

“I was thinking we wouldn’t for Sectionals,” Finn says. “I mean, I know we...and yeah, Puck, I know ‘we’ means ‘you,’ wrote them fast last time, but I was worried about the time issue. Good songs and good choreography _and_ plenty of time to practice?” Finn pauses for a second, his eyebrows knit together. “Unless, you know, somebody already had something they were working on?”

Kurt stifles a laugh and looks at Puck, who just rolls his eyes. “What kind of song do you want?”

“Hmm. Well, let’s see what kind of stuff everybody else wants, and then if there’s something you’ve got that’ll work with that, we’ll go with it,” Finn says, firmly. “Also, yeah, I think we should let Mike have some extra say in what we choose, because it should be something he can work around.”

Rachel greets them enthusiastically at the door. “Come in, come in! You’re the first three here! Can I get you a pop?”

“Please,” Puck nods. “All that garlic.” Kurt wrinkles his nose a little and nods.

“Yes, me too, please, Rachel.”

“Sure,” Finn adds, “But no garlic problem here.” He leans over and plants a quick kiss on Rachel’s lips.

“Garlic, hmm?” She pulls out three cans and hands them out. “Oh! There’s a knock! Head on downstairs!”

Puck opens his can and trots down the stairs ahead of the other two. When they reach the bottom, Finn makes a noise that’s only a hair away from a “D’oh!”

“You guys! The garlic, seriously.” Finn shakes his head. “You two really _suck_ at secret-keeping, you know that? If you were ninjas, you’d have been dead in the first scene of the movie.”

“Hey, I could totally be a gay ninja!” Puck protests

“Those are called geishas, right?” Finn jokes. “Yeah, you could be one of those.”

“You realize it’s still two against one right now, right, brother dear?” Kurt raises his eyebrows over his can.

“Yeah, but you’d have to stand _on_ Puck to reach me, big brother,” Finn smirks.

“It can’t be _that_ hard to kick someone’s legs out from under them. I think I’m going to have to read up on that.”

“You do that, dude, but watch out. I’ve got mad skills.”

“Mad skills at what, exactly?” Mike interrupts as he and Tina come down the stairs.

“Oh, you know,” Finn says, evasively. “Nunchuck skills. Bowhunting skills. Nosebreaking skills.”

“Maybe we don’t want to know,” Tina shrugs. “Finn, can you and Puck go help Artie down?”

“Oh, right, sure,” Puck nods, handing his can to Kurt. He follows Finn back up the stairs and together they carry Artie down, Artie dancing the whole way. Puck reclaims his can with a brief smile. “I think we saw Santana’s car pull up.”

“You did,” Santana’s voice carries down the stairwell. “And Sam was right behind us.”

“So that’s everyone!” Rachel calls from even farther away. “We can get started! This is so exciting.”

“Ok, guys,” Finn leads off, going up to stand on the Berrys’ little stage. “I think we should just jump right into this. I had some thoughts about ways we could approach our set list for Sectionals. I want to run them by you and you tell me what you think, ok?” He waits for the nods and murmurs of assent before continuing.

“First, I think we should consider giving Mike veto power on the songs we choose. He’s the best choreographer we have--probably better than anybody else has got--and if he thinks we can’t dance to it, we probably can’t dance to it. Agreed?”

“Definitely,” Puck agrees. “We’ve been relying on our vocals but that’s not going to cut it at Nationals.”

“Excellent. Ok, so, what’s next?” Finn has to pause for a minute and collect his thoughts. “Oh, right, right. So, I think that everybody should get a chance to suggest songs for Sectionals. No favoritism. No ‘we gotta do this kind of song or else.’”

“No genre limitations,” Kurt breaks in. “There’s absolutely no reason we couldn’t arrange _anything_ to make it work.”

“Exactly, Kurt. He’s right, guys. Don’t limit yourselves.” Finn shoots Kurt a quick thumbs up. “This is how we’re going to do it. Everybody write three songs down on a sheet of paper, just any three songs you think would be good for Sectionals or that you’d like to sing or hear somebody else sing. When we’ve gotten those compiled, I’ll go through them and look for matches. If two or three people had the same song idea, that’s a great place to start.”

Puck pushes himself off the wall at Finn’s nod, and distributes the paper on the counter. “Everyone got a pencil?”

“Will a pen do?”

“Yes, Mercedes, it will,” Puck rolls his eyes a little and steps back to where he was leaning on the wall.

“Do we need to disguise our handwriting?” Brittany asks. “So it isn’t used against us if it falls into enemy hands?”

“Ooh, we can shred them afterwards! Or burn them,” Rachel offers. “My dads have an industrial-strength shredder.”

“Uh, they’re not, like, launch codes or something, girls,” Finn says, making a face. “Rachel, we probably don’t need the shredder. That does bring up an important point, though. What happens in glee club stays in glee club. Don’t talk about our set list to anybody.” He eyeballs the two Cheerios present. “ _Anybody_.”

“Not even Schue, right?” Puck offers.

“Not even Mr. Schue,” Finn agrees. “Not yet, anyway.”

With that, everyone turns to their papers, scribbling away. Puck smirks a little to himself; he and Kurt had somewhat anticipated the situation, so there’s going to be at least one song overlapping between theirs. “These Are the Days” and “We Will Rock You” round out his list, mainly because someone will get a laugh out of “We Will Rock You,” and he doesn’t have a third song in mind.

Everyone slowly finishes, handing their papers to Finn silently, then reclaiming their seats or patch of wall. Finn shuffles through the papers and grins.

“Looks like we’ve already got a lot of votes for the same song!” he exclaims. “Great minds, right?”

“What song?” Rachel asks, almost breathlessly.

“‘Seasons of Love.’ That’s the one you guys sang at the glee meeting before school started, right?” Finn looks at Kurt for confirmation.

Kurt nods, but there’s a little hiss of “yes!” from Tina’s seat, and a big grin on her face.

“We had three people write that down, so I’d say that’s a strong contender,” Finn says, jovially. “We also have two for ‘I Gotta Feeling’ by the Black Eyed Peas, and that’s our only other match. Mike, do you think either of those sound workable for a dance number?”

“‘I Gotta Feeling’ would be perfect,” Mike nods. “Great beat, we could really have a lot of fun with that. Maybe feature Brittany at one point,” he smiles at her, and Brittany flashes a big grin.

“That’d be so fun!”

“Cool. Hey, look how awesome we are at this?” Finn beams. “We’ve already got _two_ great song ideas and neither of them is Journey.” He winks. “So, how do all of you guys feel about these songs?”

Santana looks around for a second before speaking. “They’d be pretty easy to split off some nice solos and still keep them as group numbers, you know? So that’s good.”

“But we _do_ need a solo or a duet. We have to look at the usual pattern of what wins,” Rachel interjects. “There weren’t _any_ other matches?”

Finn shakes his head. “No, and nothing that just jumps out at me as a solo that goes well with the other two songs. I mean, I can pass the lists around, but I don’t have a strong feeling about any of these being right.” He pauses for a minute and looks at Puck, quirking an eyebrow. “What have you got for me?”

Puck squats down and unzips his backpack, flipping open two of his notebooks before nodding when he opens the third. He flips through the pages to about the middle. “You got a keyboard or something down here, Rachel?”

“Of course!” Rachel hurries over to a closet and pulls out a keyboard and stand, hooking it up quickly. “Who can play?”

Puck just quirks an eyebrow at her. “I got it.” He holds the book open with his left hand and plays the melody line with his right hand, through what he’s thought of as the verse and the chorus, then stops, looking at Finn.

Finn nods once, serious and thoughtful. “That’s really good, Puck.”

“Wait a second. Since when does Puckerman play the fucking piano?” Santana interjects. “Did any of the rest of you know about this?” She looks around the room incredulously.

Most of the room shakes their heads, disavowing knowledge. Puck smirks a little. “S’how I learned to pick locks, actually. I used to break into the music classroom in middle school.”

Finn chuckles. “That is how you’d learn to play piano, man.” He shakes his head a little. “So, what does everybody think about what Puck’s showing us?”

“I like it,” Sam says with a nod, “but what about the lyrics?”

“Hey, I don’t do lyrics. I leave that to the people who like poetry and do smart people English and shit.”

“Some of us can work on the lyrics with you!” Rachel exclaims. “I know some of us would love to do that.”

Finn has a brief flash of panic cross his face. “No headbands.” He looks over at Brittany and Artie. “No cups, either.”

“Maybe a... smaller group. Not everyone,” Kurt offers.

“We should have, like, committees or something,” Finn says, nodding to himself a little. “That way we don’t all have to focus on everything until it’s time for all of us to come together to work on it. Did you want to help Puck on the song, Kurt? You’re good at the English stuff.”

Kurt nods. “Sure, I can do that.”

“I’ll help, too.” Rachel beams at Finn and then Puck. “Finn, you should too!”

“I’m ok with that if Puck is,” Finn agrees.

Puck shrugs. There wasn’t really a good way to get out of Rachel helping. “Sure.”

“Ok, then. I also think Mike should have a dance committee,” Finn states. He laughs a little. “I’m sure glad I’ve already got a committee!” Everyone else laughs, too. “Mike, why don’t you pick a few people to work with you on that?”

“Sure.” Mike nods. “Britt?” She nods with a happy smile. “Tina, you want to do this or something else?”

“I’d kind of like to work on the vocal arrangements, actually, if that’s okay?” she answers, looking at Finn.

“That’s the third committee,” Finn says with a nod. “Since you know at least one of the songs well already, it makes sense that you’d work on that. Why don’t you be in charge of that committee?”

“Okay!” Tina beams happily, and then looks back at Mike, who’s scanning the room.

“Santana? You want to work on the dancing with us?”

Santana just nods, but she smiles a little, and links her pinkie with Brittany.

“Mercedes? Artie? Sam?” Finn addresses the remaining three. “Preferences?”

“If Artie doesn’t mind, it might be good if he works with us on choreography,” Mike interjects, and Artie nods his agreement.

“I’ll stick with arrangements,” Mercedes volunteers. “I was one of the people who wrote down ‘I Gotta Feeling,’ after all.”

“Yeah, I’ll stick with Mercedes,” Sam nods.

“What about Quinn?” Tina asks. “She’s not here, remember?”

“Arrangement, if Tina’s cool with that. That keeps the groups balanced.”

“Yeah, that’s cool,” Tina smiles. “This is great, guys! Should we all start talking now?”

“I don’t have any place else to be,” Finn shrugs and smiles. “Let’s go ahead and get rolling on that.”

Kurt, Rachel, and Finn walk over to where Puck’s still standing by the keyboard. “So do you have the entire song written?”

“Yeah, that’s just the piano part there and the guitar chords. I can flesh it out for the band,” Puck shrugs, and Rachel takes the book from his hand.

“Oh, you have one line already!” She grins at him. “That’s lovely.”

“What’s the line?” Finn asks.

“‘If you’re willing, I’ll be wonderful,’” Rachel reads off with a smile. “Isn’t that nice?”

“Aww, that’s sweet, dude,” Finn grins at Puck.

“Yeah, well, I wrote the song _and_ that line at least a couple of months ago, and that’s as much as you get, lyrics-wise.”

“It’s a good start, though,” Kurt says with a shrug. “How’s the rest of the song structured? Verses, how many?”

“Uh, probably two, and a chorus.”

“Here, Finn,” Rachel hands the notebook to him. “See what you think.”

“It, um, looks like music to me, all right,” Finn shrugs. “Number 147 F. K.? What’s that mean?”

“Oh, they don’t have names,” Puck answers quickly. “So I just started numbering them. Sometimes they have, like. I dunno. A mood, a purpose, whatever. So that’s the initials.”

Finn mouths “F. K., F.K.” a few times, then makes that little startle that usually signifies he gets it. His eyes flick quickly to Kurt and then back to Puck, and he raises his eyebrow ever so slightly. “Oh, ok. As long as we don’t have to sing about one hundred and forty-seven of something.”

Puck snorts. “Nope. Just one.” He smirks a little.

“So! Do we want to all work together or each of us work on a different portion of the lyrics? Puck, can you play it through for us?” Rachel asks.

“Sure.” Puck shrugs and does so, the other three clearly listening for something. Puck’s not sure what, but he figures he doesn’t have to know.

“Yeah, I think we need to work on it together,” Finn says. “The parts are different enough that I think we could end up with lyrics that don’t work well together, otherwise.”

“Okay,” Kurt nods. “When do we want to work on this?”

“I am available most of the time!” Rachel beams. “After football practice? Before school?”

“Puck can’t before school,” Kurt interjects. “It’s going to be hard to find a good time.”

“Thursday afternoons?” Finn suggests. “Maybe an hour, hour and a half right, after glee rehearsal?”

Kurt pulls out his phone and makes a show of looking at his calendar before looking up and nodding. “That should work for me.”

“Yeah, that works for me, too,” Puck agrees.

“Excellent,” Finn says, clapping his hands together once. “This is gonna be great, you guys. We’re going to kick this song’s ass!”

Rachel beams and nods. “I think that’s good for tonight,” and Puck looks around to see everyone else seems to be ready to end the meeting, too.

“Yes,” Kurt nods. “We probably should be going.”

It takes longer than Puck expects for them to leave, Kurt and Puck waiting in the Navigator for awhile while Finn says good-bye to Rachel. Before long, though, they’re back at Puck’s apartment, and Kurt brushes a kiss across his lips and squeezes his hand. “Be good.”

Puck grins. “I’m always good.”

 

They haven’t driven far from Puck’s apartment when Kurt can tell Finn has something to say. Finn keeps squirming around in his seat and alternating between staring too long out the window and too long at Kurt. “What is it, Finn?” Kurt asks, his tone purposely light.

“Puck’s not looking so hot,” Finn says, finally.

Kurt blinks. “What do you mean?”

“He’s looking really, I dunno, tired. Worn thin.”

“Oh.” Kurt sighs. “I know. He’s exhausted. When we left after the movie Friday night? He fell asleep within five minutes of walking in his apartment.”

“Is there anything he can do about?” Finn asks. “Cut back a little at work? Work longer on the weekend so he doesn’t have to get up so early?”

“He has to keep twenty hours. Something to do with benefits and tuition reimbursement eventually. I don’t know about the weekends, but I suspect he’d be resistant to that.”

“I’m worried about him. Is he losing weight?”

Kurt purses his lips, thinking. “I... I don’t know. I.” He stops and flushes a little. “I might be a little too close to the situation to determine that,” he finally says.

“I think he might have,” Finn says, gently. “Maybe we could start bringing snacks to the glee rehearsals or something. Brownies. Peanut butter. Cots for nap times?”

Kurt laughs. “That last might be hard to explain away.” He sighs then. “I really don’t know how he’s still going, Finn. My schedule is hard enough, and his is worse.”

Finn nods. “Is there _anything_ I can do? Am I supposed to pretend I don’t notice?”

“I don’t know. On either count.” Kurt shrugs. “I _am_ worried,” he admits. “But I can’t make most of his homework disappear, or make Coach Beiste magically shorten football practices.”

“Maybe I could talk to Coach or something?” Finn suggests. “Without Puck knowing? Maybe if I just mention to her that I think he’s looking rough?”

“It couldn’t hurt?” Kurt hazards.

“I’ll try to keep from making him look weak or anything,” Finn hastens to explain. “I know he’s not. I don’t know how he’s still walking around if it’s as bad as you say. I’ll just drop some hints. Coach is smart and I think once she’s looking for it, she’ll see it pretty fast.”

Kurt nods. “I know. And I suspect the coffee is keeping him going.” Kurt parks in front of the house and sighs again. “It’s just... some of the stress can’t be alleviated. It’s one thing to keep a relationship secret; it’s another to keep a relationship _and_ sexuality secret. I know you had to notice how uncomfortable and quiet Puck was on Saturday when we were driving up to the course.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Finn grimaces. “I tried to get them to shut up, but they just won’t let anything drop.”

“No. And I was making up half of the stuff I was saying, but at least it distracted them.”

“So Tina didn’t really say that...” Finn shakes his head. “You know, I really _don’t_ want to know. I’m gonna assume that’s part of the made up stuff.”

Kurt laughs for a moment. “Fair assumption.” They walk in through the garage and into the hall and Kurt sighs a little. “Just one foot in front of another, I guess.”

“Keep on keeping on, huh?” Finn sighs, too, and a low grade funk seems to settle over them.

 

"Have you selected your number for this week?" Rachel latches onto Puck's arm as they both leave English. "I admit, I was a bit taken aback by the sheer depth of possible selections, but I think I found one that conveyed the optimism of the '60s instead of some of the less happy elements."

"Oh?"

"Yes! I went with that classic band, The Monkees!"

"Well, I'm sure it'll be great," Puck settles on responding, and Rachel beams and nods, already having forgotten her question to Puck.

"Who's ready to perform today?" Schue beams as the bell rings. "I'm really excited about this '60s theme!"

Mostly blank stares meet his enthusiasm, and then Rachel bounds up from the seat she only claimed seconds before. "I'd love to perform!"

"Great! Come on up! What do you have for us?"

"I selected the classic Monkees tune, 'Daydream Believer.'" With a nod at the band, Rachel picks up the microphone and launches into her song.

_Cheer up, Sleepy Jean  
Oh, what can it mean.  
To a daydream believer  
And a homecoming queen_

It's a good performance, though, and Rachel does a good job with it. She beams before sitting down.

"Wonderful! Who's ready to go today? Puck?" Puck just shakes his head. He hasn't even settled on which song to do. "Artie?"

"Sure, I guess I can go," Artie agrees, rolling to the front of the room. "I decided to go with a classic from the Righteous Brothers."

"Let's hear it!"

Artie nods once and then begins to croon–there's really no other word for it.

_You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips  
And there's no tenderness like before in your fingertips  
You're trying hard not to show it baby  
But baby, baby I know it…_

Schue is standing to the side, swaying with the music with wide grin. "How fantastic! That's such a great song," he adds when they get to the end of the song.

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," Artie nods.

"We're ready to perform, too, Mr. Schue," Tina speaks up, nodding at Mike. "We chose to do the Mamas & the Papas."

"Oh, such a great group," Schue nods. "Which song?"

"Monday, Monday," Tina smiles, and Brad begins to play.

_Monday Monday, can't trust that day,  
Monday Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way  
Oh Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be  
Oh Monday Monday, how could you leave and not take me._

Puck leans back in his chair and listens, eyes closed, because it's true–can't trust Monday. Can't trust any day, really, except for the days that he and Kurt escape, and Trey Warbler showed that even that wasn't a perfect solution.

He stretches exaggeratedly and lets his arms fall onto the back of the two chairs next to him. If Kurt happens to be in one of them, well. No one's paying much attention to them. Much.

"Oh, I love that, guys. Anyone else ready today? If not, I have a song to share with you!"

No one responds, fortunately or unfortunately, so Schue claps his hands together and moves to the front of the room. "Great! This is a great historical lesson, guys, and a great song too."

Puck's eyes widen a little as the music starts, and his jaw drops. "Is he seriously doing this?" he whispers to Kurt, who looks at him and nods with an expression of slight horror on his face.

_This summer I hear the drumming,  
Four dead in Ohio.  
Gotta get down to it  
Soldiers are cutting us down  
Should have been done long ago_

The rest of the room is silent, and Puck scans the room, noting similar looks of disbelief and horror on everyone's face. Schue finishes and looks expectantly at the room, smiling slightly.

There's a couple of nods, and then Finn speaks into the silence. "So, uh, everyone else will perform on Thursday and Friday? Great!"

"Yeah, yeah, absolutely," Schue agrees after a beat. "Great rehearsal, guys!"

"What, exactly, did we rehearse?" Kurt mutters to Puck as everyone stands.

Puck snorts. "If you figure it out, let me know."

"Right."

 

They've established a pattern that Puck can vaguely recognize probably isn't the best, but they fall into it anyway–no work before dinner (and it's Monday, so dinner is with his mom and sister), then homework afterwards, each of them doing a bit of the other's work. Puck knows, and he can tell Kurt does too, that it's really a bad idea, but they're saving time and it keeps them both treading water instead of full-out drowning. It shouldn't catch up with them. Much.

"We should start doing our own work again," Puck concedes near the end of the evening. "Like, I don't know. Next week."

Kurt nods, his mouth twisted up wryly. "Yes. Later." He starts to put things back into his bag. "I don't know how you're doing it, Puck; I can't imagine adding practice for anything on top of what I'm doing."

"I think I'm powered by coffee at this point."

"Probably so." Kurt's smile is a little wan.

Puck moves closer, pulling Kurt into his arms. "Saturday, right? If anyone comes up with any ideas, we're busy. And I'll tell Finn after practice tomorrow that he needs to be anywhere but your place."

Kurt moves his face and presses his lips to Puck's in lieu of a verbal answer, flicking his tongue against Puck until Puck lets his own tongue meet Kurt's. Puck holds Kurt tightly, the kiss slow and leisurely, and Puck doesn't have any plans to actually release Kurt. He thinks absently that it's too bad Burt isn't more like Puck's mom, because then he'd be asleep already, and Kurt could probably sneak in before breakfast with no one the wiser. If Puck could just convince Kurt to stay, which Puck doesn't think would actually be all that difficult.

Damn Burt for being responsible and staying awake until his boys are home.

Finally, though, Puck does let Kurt go, his arm remaining around Kurt's waist until they reach the apartment door. "Be good, blue eyes."

"I'm always good."

 

Puck’s learned not to be particularly surprised by anything Kurt does, but it is a little surprising when he emerges from the bathroom at work on Tuesday morning to find Kurt inside the store, talking with Ms. Horatio. Kurt turns to smile at Puck before accepting a paper plate straight from the microwave.

“What’s this?”

“Food.” Kurt takes his coffee from Puck and hands him the plate, which has two of the breakfast Hot Pockets on it.

“Oh. Okay.” Puck shrugs. “Cool. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Kurt nods, falling into step with him as they walk outside. Puck takes a bite as soon as they sit down.

“Mmmffh. Good. Thanks.” Puck looks over at Kurt and grins. “So we get to make fun of the Warblers today. I mean, analyze their performance.”

Kurt holds back a laugh, but his dimples show. “It should be enlightening, shouldn’t it?” he agrees.

Puck finishes the second of the Hot Pockets as they pull up at the school. “Thanks, K,” he says again. “That was awesome.”

“Just leave the plate in here,” Kurt replies with a smile. “I’ll take care of it on the way over to French.”

“If you’re sure,” Puck shrugs, but climbs out. “See you in physics.” He grins a little. “Be good.”

“I’m always good!”

 

When Puck walks into the choir room at the beginning of fourth period, Kurt’s already there, setting up his laptop, and Puck grabs a few chairs as Sam and Mike do the same. Before long, everyone arrives, except for Quinn, who’s apparently still living it up out west, according to Brittany. They all find their seats and then look towards Finn expectantly.

“It’s time for everybody’s favorite game, folks,” Finn says, pointing at the laptop on the table. “‘What the Hell is Going On With That Show Choir?’”

“Vampires!” Puck springs up and digs into his backpack. “I came prepared today.” He holds up his vest from their Nationals costumes and pulls it on as he walks up to the whiteboard. “What do you think?”

“Classy, Puckerman,” Finn nods.

“Awesome,” Brittany nods and grins.

“Shall we?” Kurt asks, gesturing to the laptop, but his eyes flick to Puck for a moment and he smiles wryly.

“Let’s do it!” Finn says, eager to begin. Kurt nods and hits play, and they’re forced to sit through listening to the Warblers’ set again.

“Don’t pick a song that Weird Al has parodied,” Puck says as soon as the videos stop.

“I didn’t know that Weird Al’s song _wasn’t_ the original,” Artie admits. “I wondered why they were singing the wrong words.”

“Those song choices were horrible,” Rachel offers, shaking her head. “Especially the last one.”

“Yeah, I don’t even know what that _was_ ,” Finn says. “It was just...just _bad_. Wait, that’s not constructive. It was, um, it didn’t...screw it, it was just _bad_.”

“Are we deconstructing their choices, or them as a group?” Kurt offers. “Because...”

“Both? I don’t see why one means you can’t do the other,” Finn explains. “Feel free to say whatever needs said.”

“They worship Blaine. _Worship_ him. The only reason I had the duet with him at Regionals last year was because Blaine decided it should be so. His song choices are predictable, for the most part. If we go out there and do ‘I Gotta Feeling,’ we’re infringing on his territory, and doing it better.”

“Why better?” Rachel asks curiously.

“The same reason we talked about with the Jane Addams girls. Single-sex voices doing cross-sex songs. It’s interesting for one song; for an entire set, not so much.”

Puck nods and makes a few notes on the board, including ‘variety within set.’

“You should also write ‘can’t be all about one guy’ up there,” Finn says. “Or maybe ‘group effort’ instead?”

Puck nods and writes ‘not all about one guy’ and ‘hair should move’ on the board. He can hear Kurt snort back a laugh, and a few other giggles as well.

“Also, ‘can’t do daytime shows,’” Finn adds.

Kurt and Puck both start laughing, but the rest of the group just stares at the three of them incredulously.

“What are you talking about?” Rachel finally asks.

“Vampirism,” Finn shakes his head, smirking. “Such a stumbling block on the road to Nationals.”

“Who’s a vampire?” Tina asks, confused.

“Have _you_ seen anyone born in the last hundred years with a hairstyle like Blaine’s?” Puck asks, grinning.

“They have a point,” Kurt says with a shrug.

“Enough about that,” Mercedes gestures with one hand. “What do they think they’re doing as far as costuming? Those aren’t costumes. They aren’t even good uniforms!”

“Least they don’t make their butts look big,” Finn mumbles, only loud enough for Kurt and Puck to hear him.

Huh. Guess something about living with Kurt got to Finn eventually, Puck can’t help but think.

“They really aren’t,” Artie agrees.

“I thought our costumes were pretty cool this time,” Rachel admits.

“Me too,” Brittany agrees. “They were really easy to dance in.”

“And no tie,” Puck breaks in. “Though I suspect we can’t get away with skipping those in competition.”

“I could do without the pink,” Finn says, raising his hand a little. “But I think they were pretty good, otherwise. I think Kurt should handle the costumes from now on...only, run them by us first next time, will you?”

“I promise to do my best to make everyone look their best,” Kurt smirks. “We should probably choose for Sectionals within a couple of weeks, though, so we can get them ordered.”

“Can they be orange?” Brittany asks.

“I look rockin’ in orange,” Santana agrees.

Puck turns to look at Kurt, whose eyes are widening almost comically.

“No,” Puck says. “No orange.” He winces a little.

“I have to agree with Puck. I’ll have to find a color that looks good on _everyone_ ,” Kurt stresses.

“Anybody have anything else from the videos?” Finn asks. “Anything that needs to go on the board?” There’s a lot of shaking of heads, and Puck caps his marker. “Ok, then. We’ll go over our own performances on Thursday, guys.”

Everyone shuffles the chairs back in place, and Puck stows his vest back in his backpack, because he doesn’t really want to know what Mr. Schue would think if he saw Puck wearing it around. “Don’t forget, PFLAG next!” Rachel calls out, and Puck scoots out the door just ahead of Kurt.

“Wonder who will show up today,” Puck remarks, and Kurt nods.

“I suppose Rickenbacker and Coach Beiste will be there again.”

“Yeah, I think Figgins or Beiste said he had to come all year long. I dunno, I think that was about the time I started throwing up.”

“Throwing up?” Kurt raises one eyebrow. “You didn’t mention that before.”

“Eh, I throw up when I’m stressed,” Puck shrugs it off. “Have since I was little.”

“Oh.” Kurt falls silent for a moment. “At any rate, I thought we’d watch that video like we talked about, and maybe talk about what the... I don’t know, climate? Is like at present.”

“Fordham and Johannson?”

“Yes.” Kurt sighs. “I worry about that little Casey.”

“Me too,” Puck admits. “Dude is _tiny_.”

They walk into the meeting room and start setting up, and Karofsky walks in soon after, carrying a stack of pizzas. “My dad, uh, paid for these.”

“Cool, dude,” Puck nods and takes the top half of the stack, setting it on the table.

“Yes, please tell him thank you,” Kurt says with a small smile.

The bell for lunch rings then, and Puck picks a chair along one wall, taking a seat. Kurt pulls out his laptop again and sets up, then sits down just two seats over from Puck with a half-weary, half-pleased smile. “Here we go again,” Puck murmurs, and Kurt nods.

Brittany and Santana walk in next, pinkies linked, and Rachel is close behind them. Sam, Mercedes, Mike, and Tina enter as a group, then the various underclassmen that have been showing up, including Casey.

Beiste nods towards Puck as she walks in, Rickenbacker trailing behind her, looking resigned. Then Puck starts when a familiar but unexpected face walks in, and he shoots Kurt a look of alarm.

“That’s Brown,” he hisses at Kurt, whose eyes narrow. Brown nods at Rickenbacker, greets Coach Beiste, and then drops into the seat between Puck and Kurt.

“Hey, Puckerman,” he says with a nod. “Thought I’d come check this out.”

“Brown,” Puck grinds out with a small nod. A part of Puck has wanted to brush off Brown’s weird behavior as just that, weird behavior, but all the pieces no longer quite added up to that conclusion, especially not with Brown sitting in the middle of a PFLAG meeting and Kurt looking like he’s considering the choice between clawing Brown’s eyes out or just verbally ripping him to shreds.

Puck would probably be a little bit amused and somewhat pleased, actually, if he weren’t so damn horrified by the whole thing. He can’t put a finger on why it horrifies him, exactly, but it does. He decides to concentrate on the fact that his boyfriend would have all his hair standing straight up if he were a cat. If looks had power, Kurt’s glare would have already turned Brown into a solid chunk of ice. No, dry ice.

Finn comes loping into the class room, almost late, with Schue trailing behind him. He does a quick scan of the room and, noticing Brown seated between Puck and Kurt, pulls up short. He gives Kurt a quick, confused look. Kurt raises his eyebrows and shrugs minutely, then cuts his eyes back towards Brown, almost scornfully. The look Finn gives Brown is cursory, and he promptly drops into the seat next to Puck.

“What is up with _that_?” Finn leans over and whispers to Puck.

“I dunno,” Puck shakes his head, “but Kurt’s about to kill him with laser-beam eyes.”

Finn nods. “I can tell. Does Brown know? About, you know?”

Puck shrugs. “Hell if I know. But it’s not the first weird thing, y’know?”

Finn makes the little snorting noise that Puck recognizes as an attempt to cut short a laugh. “What is it about our football team?”

“Statistics, dude.” Puck shrugs again.

Kurt clears his throat a little then. “Welcome to PFLAG. Before we start, I’d like to remind everyone that what we talk about in this room does not leave this room.” He shoots a look at Rickenbacker and then Brown, before scanning all the assembled faces. “Now, we’ll do introductions. Name, year if you want, reason you’re here if you want.” Kurt exhales sharply. “I’ll start. I’m Kurt, I’m a senior, and I’m here on account of being gay.” He smiles wryly and turns to his left, where Brown is sitting.

“Uh, yeah, hi, I’m Miles Brown. I’m a junior and I, uh, just thought I’d come see what you guys did in here. Yeah.” He nods once, as if approving of his own statement, and then it’s Puck’s turn.

“Yeah, I’m still Puck.”

“I’m Finn. I’m Kurt’s, ehem, _little_ brother, and I’m here because I owe Casey money, and he said he’d let me work it out bouncing at the PFLAG meetings,” Finn winks at Casey. “So everybody better behave!”

There’s a little squeak of excitement. It sounds almost like a guinea pig and Casey quickly clamps his hands over his mouth and blushes beet red. Finn guffaws, and there’s scattered laughter, aimed mostly at Finn, from around the room.

On the other side of Finn, Karofsky pipes up. “I’m David Karofsky.”

Most of the other introductions are along the lines of what Puck’s come to expect, except for Brittany, who smiles brightly before speaking. “I’m Brittany, and I’m here because I’m the “B” in GLBTQ.”

There’s a few nods, and Santana smiles at her, half-proudly and half-sadly. Puck’s pretty sure Rickenbacker does a double-take, actually, but that’s hardly surprising.

“I’m Coach Beiste,” Beiste introduces herself shortly, and then Rickenbacker, looking a little less uncomfortable than last time, says, “I’m Rickenbacker. Rick. I’m here because I actually learned something last time and it didn’t suck. So, yeah.”

Mercedes and Sam go next, before it’s Casey’s turn. He takes a deep breath, because he usually has to take a deep breath before he introduces himself, and says, “I’m Casey. I’m a sophomore and I’m here because I’m gay. I’m not out and, um...I _can’t_ be out. Not at home or anywhere my parents would find out.”

Puck swallows hard, because yeah, they could all kind of guess that, but it still sucks to hear it confirmed so blatantly. He wonders if Casey’s parents are the kind of people that drink, or just the kind of douchebags that watch that ugly lady with the really long blonde hair.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kurt says gently. “Casey, after we finish, stay for a few minutes, okay?” Casey nods silently.

Schue is one of the last people to talk, and he smiles uncomfortably. “Hi, everybody, I’m Mr. Schuester, as most of you know, and I’m here to, uh, be supportive and also find out what kind of things the faculty can do to make this school better for its students.”

After the last introduction, Kurt turns to all of them. “So, I have another video for us to watch today, just one, and then I thought we could talk about the climate here at McKinley currently.” He turns to the laptop and presses play, scooting it to the middle of a table so everyone can see it.

There’s silence in the room as the video ends, and Puck’s hands are clenched into fist. He can tell Kurt’s just as choked up as he was when they watched it on Sunday, but he busies himself closing the laptop and sitting back down.

Even Finn looks a little glassy eyed, but he clears his throat and says, “That was. That was pretty powerful.”

“It made me feel... I don’t know,” Sam starts. “Kind of awful, but in a way that makes you want to _do_ something.” Mercedes nods beside him. There’s a loud sniffle from Casey and even Rickenbacker looks a little pale.

“That’s pretty hard to watch,” Beiste speaks up. “I know it’s speaking about real kids, though.”

“So,” Kurt clears his throat. “I thought perhaps we could talk about the current bullying situation here.”

Rachel nods. “It was remarkably better at the beginning of the year, but I have noticed that I’ve gotten a few more comments about my dads lately.”

“Yeah?” Karofsky looks troubled. “That’s... not good.”

“It’s not just Rachel,” Kurt says quietly.

“Something going on, Kurt?” Finn asks, not paying the rest of the students or teacher at the meeting any mind. “Did something else happen?”

“Just your garden-variety slurs between second and third period,” Kurt says lightly. “I guess Fordham and Johannson are feeling their oats again.”

Casey blanches. Puck looks at him sharply. “You too, Casey?”

At first, Casey seems hesitant to answer. He keeps glancing over at Rickenbacker nervously. “It’s okay,” Puck says softly, and then he glares at Rickenbacker. “No one’s going to retaliate.”

“Johannson’s in my English class,” Casey says softly. “It didn’t really seem like that big of a deal when it started.” He seems to shrink in on himself, become even tinier. “I mean, everybody gets picked on. It can’t hurt you. It helps you to toughen up.”

“Does it?” Kurt asks. “Or doesn’t it hurt? Maybe not physically, or visibly. But it does.”

Casey winces a little when Kurt says ‘not physically,’ and Puck’s frown grows deeper, but he doesn’t call Casey out on it, not in front of everyone at the meeting. He glances at the teachers, but none of them seem to notice. Casey doesn’t seem to have any more he’s willing to say.

“Words do hurt,” Mercedes offers. “Sometimes I think it’d be easier to be slapped than to hear another racist comment. The sting of the slap would fade quicker.”

Kurt nods. “Exactly. The words don’t really get any easier to hear.”

“Words are some of the sharpest weapons we have,” Finn mutters, in an uncharacteristic moment of eloquence.

“Yeah,” Puck offers. “And we’re usually pretty careless about how we use them, too.”

“The school doesn’t really have any policy on verbal bullying, however,” Kurt adds with a shrug. “A teacher has to witness it and decide to report it, and then withstand Figgins’ attempt to downplay it, should a parent complain.”

“It’s not right,” Karofsky rumbles. “When Santana and I were doing the Bully Whips, we still couldn’t be everywhere.” He looks at the three teachers present. “Teachers are _never_ in the hallways between classes. How could they possibly report incidents?”

“He’s got a good point,” Beiste nods soberly. “I know I use the time between classes to prepare for the next section of P.E., but maybe I should be doing that while people are changing for class.”

Schue looks thoughtful for a long moment before speaking up. “Shannon’s right. We tend to use the time between classes as a break or to prepare, but there’s really no reason I couldn’t drink my coffee standing at my doorway instead of behind my desk.”

“Is it all over the school, or are certain parts of the building worse,” Finn asks. “I mean, I’m sure there’s gonna be some bullying anywhere, anytime, but are they, like, waiting until you’re in the locker rooms or is it in classes before the teachers are there, or what?”

“Usually it’s the hallways,” Kurt says, “but I’m glad to be done with that P.E. requirement.” He smiles tightly, and looks at Casey.

“I try to stay out of the locker room,” Casey says, quietly. “I just change in the boys’ bathroom before I head to the gym.”

“It’s not hard to figure out; any place where they can guarantee at least thirty seconds before a teacher comes along.” Karofsky looks deeply troubled. “That’s pretty easy to find, by the way.”

“I fucking hate this town,” Puck mutters his breath, where only Finn can hear, and he kicks at the floor with his toe.

Finn presses his lips together and gives one grim nod.

“What can we do?” Tina asks. “I can’t punch anyone and I’m not a teacher, so I can’t report anything, either.”

“I don’t know that you can really do anything,” Puck says into the silence. “Nothing that’s gonna feel like you’re doing anything, you know? But the more people who are educated, who maybe just say something when they hear it–yeah, it’d be great to have the teachers all behind us, but.” He stops and frowns again. “It’s not gonna happen. And sooner or later we’re gonna be out there without teachers to back us up, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. “I mean, I’d love it if every teacher in this school would make sure it wasn’t happening in or around their classrooms, but I don’t think there’s any magic bullet or anything. We just do our best to stop it when we see if, if we can, or to try and drill a little sense into their hard heads.”

“We could try to raise our profile somehow,” Rachel offers after a moment. “So that even more people are aware of PFLAG’s existence. Like... a concert.” She brightens. “Or a school assembly, since I know not everyone here is as musically inclined as others of us. We could all do presentations of some type. If you wanted to participate, of course, it would be voluntary.”

“I can certainly see if we can get on the schedule for assemblies,” Ms. Pillsbury offers from the back of the room. “It might be a month or so, or even right after winter holidays.”

“Is that something you would all be interested in?” Kurt asks.

“Definitely,” Finn says. “I know at least some of us in glee could spare a little time to put something together. Puck, Mike, you guys probably need to focus on, you know, those two big projects you two are working on.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck nods, catching Mike’s eye as he nods also. “We can help with something the day of, maybe.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Mike agrees. “Not a problem.”

“All right, well, we’ll talk more about that next time, after Ms. Pillsbury checks the calendar,” Kurt says. “Everyone, please take another slice of pizza, courtesy of Mr. Karofsky, Dave’s dad. Casey, don’t forget to stay for a minute? Finn, Rachel, Puck, you also?”

Everyone stands up then, most of them heading for the pizza before heading out the door. When there’s only the five of them left in the room, Kurt turns to Casey, very serious. “Do you have a cell phone?”

Casey nods and digs through the front pocket of his backpack. “Right here.”

“Okay.” Kurt takes it from his hand and passes it to Puck while he keeps talking. “We’re going to put our numbers in it, all right? Because if you think it’s not safe to come out to your parents, you have to have people you can call, Casey. Just in case.” Kurt looks at Rachel. “Rachel, put your dads’ numbers in there, too, and Finn, add Dad’s and Carole’s.”

Rachel just nods, her face very serious, and takes Casey’s phone as soon as Puck finishes entering his own digits.

“Don’t hesitate to call,” Puck offers. “I think we’d all rather it be a false alarm than not soon enough, kid.”

Casey doesn’t seem able to answer. He just nods a mute thanks.

“Casey, remember whatever happens, we’ve got your back,” Finn assures him, and he and Rachel gather up their belongings. “Even if it’s not something awful and you just need to talk.”

“Thank you,” Casey answers, his voice barely audible over the soft scrape of Rachel’s chair as she stands.

“It’s our pleasure,” she assures him, then tucks her arm into Finn’s and heads out the door.

Puck moves over to the remaining pizza. “What do you want to do with this, K?”

“Oh, put it all in a box, and I’ll take it home. Finn needs a snack, I’m sure.”

Puck snorts. “Yeah, doesn’t he usually?” Puck busies himself with the pizza, noting Casey’s still hanging out, like he has a question or something.

“Was there anything else?” Kurt asks gently.

Casey nods. He looks at Puck a little nervously, and takes a couple of steps closer to Kurt. “So, when your dad found out?”

Kurt smiles a little. “It’s a little different. My dad says that he’s known since I was three, even though I was sixteen before I came out to him. And yes, there are times when I’m still frustrated with him, but he’s always trying, and he had years to prepare.” He sighs a little bit. “I’ve been incredibly, incredibly lucky, at least in terms of my family’s reaction.”

“I don’t think I’d be lucky like that,” Casey says, shaking his head.

Puck looks over at the door, which is shut again, and then over at Kurt, and squares his jaw a little before walking over and sitting down beside Kurt. “It’s scary,” he offers.

Kurt looks over at him with a raised eyebrow and then a little smile. Puck just shrugs and returns the smile.

“Yeah, it’s...it’s scary,” Casey stammers.

“Are you... do you just not know what to expect, or are you specifically expecting a negative reaction?” Puck continues.

“My, uh...” Casey mumbles. “My dad, he...um, he was, he was in the Army, you know?”

“Has he made comments since the repeal?” Kurt asks.

Casey nods. “He doesn’t um. You know. Like it. And um, he’s always sort of...”

“Used derogatory language?” Kurt guesses.

“It’s more than that,” Casey confesses. “I mean, he’s Mister Army and he’s an electrician, I mean, _look_ at me.”

Kurt nods. “My dad owns a car repair shop. You wouldn’t exactly pick us out as related at first glance.”

Puck does his best not to laugh, because Kurt and Burt can look so much alike it’s ridiculous, and get them both around an old car, and everyone else might as well have disappeared, but he knows that’s not what Casey needs to hear. “What about your mom?”

“What’s she gonna be able to do?” Casey shrugs, his voice slipping into a higher register. “She’s not going to argue with him. I mean, you _don’t_ argue with him.”

“But would she be upset? I don’t really know how it works, my dad’s been gone so long, but would she tell him?” Puck shrugs. “Just a thought.”

Casey shakes his head violently. “No, I can’t tell her anything. I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Okay,” Puck acknowledges, and looks at Kurt, shrugging.

“There are some hotlines and things you can call,” Kurt offers. “Online chats. I don’t really know, Casey, I’m sorry. To be where we are, we’ve been quite lucky.”

“I’m not ever lucky,” Casey says, and he’s not whining or being dramatic. He says it quietly, like he’s simply stating a fact.

“Well, you may not have been,” Kurt says after a moment, “but not everything is luck. You can put yourself in a position through planning that makes it less...”

“Less bad,” Puck offers. “We’ll help you make some luck.”

“It’s still so long until I graduate.” There’s a quiver in Casey’s voice. “How do I hold on that long?”

“One day at a time,” Kurt offers, a little shakily.

“When’s your birthday? Are you sixteen yet?”

Casey shakes his head. “I have a later birthday. It’s not until March.”

“‘Kay. Come March, we’ll get you a job, okay? And you can open a bank account without a parent’s signature as long as you use direct deposit.” Puck just shrugs at the slightly surprised look Kurt gives him. “I figured that out last spring. Anyway. Once you have a job, you have money, and that’s a back-up plan right there.”

Casey sits very still for a moment and then nods slowly. “That’s March, though. That’s still months from now. What do I do if they find out before then?”

“You call us, or Finn, or Rachel, or my parents, or Rachel’s dads.” Kurt looks at Puck briefly. “I didn’t have Puck put his mom’s number in because she’s a single parent and Puck has a little sister, so she’s just not as able to be flexible. But the rest of us are. You call, and we’ll be there as fast as you can. How far from school do you live?”

“Not far. Six or seven minutes.”

“Which direction?” Puck asks. “Are you across the interstate?”

“Northish. Northwest. I’m not across the interstate.”

“Okay, good, you’re not that far from any of us,” Kurt nods. “I know we aren’t much of a back-up plan, but there just aren’t a lot of resources here.”

“No, you’re already doing so much for me,” Casey manages a weak smile. “That’s already more than I thought I’d get.”

“This town will get you if you let it, and sometimes even if you don’t.” Puck shrugs. “But we take care of our own.”

“Your...your own?”

“Yeah.” Puck half-smirks. “You aren’t the only one who isn’t out, dude.”

“Puck’s not even out to the kids in glee club,” Kurt explains. “Both of our families know, including Finn, but that’s it.”

Casey’s eyes widen. “I thought, maybe. Not even your other friends?”

Puck just shakes his head, not wanting to scare Casey with the scenarios Puck’s brain can concoct all too readily. “No. Not until after graduation.”

“And you and Kurt?”

“Finn did say we were obvious,” Kurt points out, laughing a little.

“Yeah, well.” Puck grins.

“I don’t know. Maybe not obvious to everybody,” Casey shrugs. “Just, you guys look at each other like...” He blushes. “Like I hope somebody looks at me some time, maybe.”

“Yeah?” Puck looks at Kurt, who’s a little pink, too.

“Someone will,” Kurt assures Casey. “I promise. Maybe where you least expect it,” he adds with a grin of his own.

The bell rings then, and Casey just says “thank you” one more time, before picking up his bag and slipping out of the classroom, smiling.

Puck looks over at Kurt and shakes his head. “Least expect it, huh?”

“Okay, okay. Just unexpected,” Kurt amends, laughing.

 

Beiste actually lets Puck leave practice a little early later that day, and he's about to head out the door when the rest of the team comes clomping into the locker room. He nods at Finn and pulls out his phone as he pushes the door open to the hall, heading outside. He shoots off a quick text message to Finn _don't go straight home dude thx_.

When Puck reaches the Nav, his phone chimes and he reads the answering text with a small smile. _Got it_. Finally.

"Your brother will not be at home," Puck announces as he closes the door.

"Oh, thank god," Kurt replies.

"I know." Puck picks up Kurt's hand and starts kissing it gently, pushing Kurt's sleeve up and moving his mouth up Kurt's arm. Kurt lets out a small sound that could definitely be described as catlike, and Puck grins against Kurt's skin, turning his arm over to expose his even paler inner forearm.

"Good day?"

"S'now," Puck allows, grazing his teeth a little over Kurt's arm, suckling a small dark spot near the crook of Kurt's elbow. "Will be better." He lifts his head up slightly to grin at Kurt, and his grin widens as Kurt blushes slightly.

"That is true," he agrees, though, and his own lips curve into a grin.

Puck's glad it's not a long drive to Kurt's house, because while any touching of Kurt is awesome, there's only so much he can do with Kurt's hand and arm, and they're sort of scrambling out of Nav by the time Kurt parks. Puck's already hard as a rock, and it's pretty easy to see that Kurt is too, thanks to his tight pants.

They leave their shoes inside the door, dropping their bags as well, and then head up the stairs, Kurt's fingers entwined with Puck's as they round the landing and head towards Kurt's bedroom. Puck's pulling off his shirt as soon as they cross the threshold, Kurt peeling off his own sweater in one similar motion.

Puck steps closer to Kurt and presses his hand against Kurt's erection, making Kurt hiss and thrust forward towards Puck. Puck kisses Kurt then, hard and sloppy, mouths open, and he unfastens Kurt's pants and slides them down in one motion, Kurt's underwear following quickly. Puck puts his hands on Kurt's hips and pulls his mouth away from Kurt's before sliding down onto his knees and taking as much of Kurt into his mouth as he can.

And maybe it's a stupid sentiment, but fuck, he missed this. Yeah, he's seen Kurt and touched him and sat next to him and everything, but he missed watching Kurt fall apart, the way Kurt just melts into himself and lets his body tell the whole story.

Kurt's hands are firm on either side of Puck's head, mewls and exclamations pouring out of his mouth, undammed, as Puck moves up and down on Kurt's cock, one hand moving to the base of Kurt's cock and the other moving in small circles on Kurt's hip, just touching the soft skin softly.

Puck shifts slightly and closes his eyes, then manages to take a little more of Kurt's erection into his mouth, and the gasp from above him is gratifying in a way he can't even begin to explain. He moves the hand on Kurt's hip back, tracing down over Kurt's entrance. Judging by the taste in his mouth and the sounds Kurt's making and the way his body is tensing, Kurt's about to go over the edge, and all Puck can contemplate is making sure that Kurt does, and soon. He runs his finger over Kurt again, his other hand moving faster, and when his lips slide back down Kurt, Kurt explodes with a loud cry. Puck keeps his mouth on Kurt until he's swallowed every drop of fluid, then licks a last stripe up the underside before carefully releasing him.

When Puck opens his eyes and looks up at Kurt, Kurt's gaze is fixed on him, a little glazed but still fiery, and he tugs at Puck, urging him off his knees. "Your turn," Kurt whispers, his lips dragging against Puck's as he does so, and Puck just nods his acquiesce.

Kurt's hands make quick work of Puck's jeans, and he's being pushed back onto the bed, fully naked, before he can quite make sense of it. Kurt's hands are running down his chest, twisting his nipple, and then Kurt's lips are on Puck's cock, his tongue twisting around it before he lowers his head and slides Puck into his mouth. Puck's hips buck upwards involuntarily, and for a moment he tries to stop himself from crying out, before remembering that there's no one to hear or care.

Kurt's mouth is warm and wet, and his lips are tight around Puck. His hand drifts to Puck's balls and then behind them, a tiny portion of his finger slipping inside Puck, and Puck yells again. Puck's hands go to Kurt's hand, fingers weaving through Kurt's thick hair, and Kurt leans first into one hand, then the other, before sliding back down on Puck's erection, and Puck can tell he's already close to the brink. When Kurt's cheeks hollow even more and he twists his hand around the base of Puck's cock, Puck comes hard, his hips jerking up as he screams.

Kurt slides up his body after just a moment, wrapping an arm around Puck's chest and sliding the other underneath Puck's neck. Puck curls one arm around Kurt and brings the other up to cup Kurt's face. "Good, baby?" Kurt breathes.

"Better," Puck nods, and kisses Kurt slowly, their tongues sliding gently together, each tasting himself in the other's mouth, and as the kiss lengthens, Puck can feel himself hardening again, Kurt's own cock already half-hard between them.

Kurt pulls away slowly and smiles. "Sometimes it is really good to be eighteen," he laughs, and Puck just grins and laughs with him. He brings his other arm down from Kurt's face to Kurt's waist, and turns them so that Kurt is lying mostly on top of him.

Kurt shift slightly to one side, opening the drawer on his bedside table, and pulls out the bottle with a critical eye. "We need to get more."

Puck just smirks. "Do we have to drive like you did before? Or should we just order it online?"

"Order it online," Kurt says with a nod. "Can we send it to your place?"

"Yeah, sure," Puck agrees.

"We'll do that tomorrow, then," Kurt asserts, "along with the Chicago plans."

Puck just nods, watching Kurt slowly open the bottle. Then Kurt takes Puck's hand in his, coating two fingers before guiding Puck's hand to Kurt's entrance. Puck complies, slowly sliding his fingers inside as Kurt sinks down onto Puck's hand. "You're beautiful," Puck whispers, just watching Kurt move, his head back slightly, tongue resting between his lips.

Kurt's mouth falls further open as Puck's finger work him open, and then he pulls himself up abruptly, Puck's fingers sliding out of him. "Now, now, can't wait any longer," he chants, and Puck nods. He grabs the bottle of lube and squeezes some onto his hand, then slicks his cock before positioning himself under Kurt. Kurt lowers himself slowly onto Puck, his eyes closing. Puck steadies Kurt, hands on Kurt's hips, and slowly Kurt begins to move himself up and down.

He clenches around Puck on the downward stroke, and Puck puts his hand onto Kurt's cock, sliding his hand up and down at a slower tempo than Kurt is moving on his. Then Kurt bends over, Puck's cock still half-buried inside him, and Puck lifts his own torso to meet Kurt's lips with his. After a few thrusts, Kurt pulls away, straightening so that Puck can bury himself deeper inside.

They settle back into a rhythm, Puck mostly holding still and keeping Kurt steady as he pumps Kurt's cock, and Kurt slides up and down on Puck. Both of them are crying out, muttering and making noises that might have been intended to be words at some point in the past. Even though he just came, Puck can feel it approaching again, and he speeds up his hand on Kurt, dipping his thumb into the top and then spreading the leaking fluid down Kurt's cock.

Kurt's body stiffens and his vocalizations change, a hum audible, and Puck twists his wrist a little. The extra stimulation is all that Kurt needs, and he comes hard, his muscles tightening around Puck as he shakes in Puck's hand.

That feeling and the sight of Kurt coming is enough to send Puck plunging off the edge, and he follows Kurt within a minute, calling out Kurt's name as he does so. Kurt raises himself off Puck before lying on top of him. "God," he groans. "We had to wait too long for that."

"Yeah," Puck agrees softly, his arms loosely around Kurt's waist. "We gotta not do that."

"Agreed." Kurt nuzzles against Puck's neck before slipping to the side. "Blanket."

"Alarm," Puck counters, already reaching for the throw at the bottom of the bed.

"Okay," Kurt agrees, and fishes for his phone before setting an alarm. Puck settles the blanket over both of them, and Kurt turns on his side, before pulling Puck towards him. "Mine."

"All yours," Puck agrees.

 

“Should we work first, or do the fun stuff first?” Puck asks after he answers the phone after dinner on Wednesday.

“Hmm. I suppose the fun stuff could be a reward, but somehow I’d rather us take care of it first.”

“Yeah, me too,” Puck admits, crossing to make sure his door is closed. There’s his mom finding lube, and then there’s his mom and sister hearing him discuss ordering it. “So I’ll do the one and you have the other?”

“Yes.” He can hear Kurt moving around a little. “Get some of both kinds? Variety is the spice of life?”

“Hmm, yeah,” Puck agrees. “You have a place to store some extra? ‘Cause it’d be easier if we didn’t have to worry about it every couple of months.”

“Yes. Good plan.” Puck can hear Kurt grinning. “I think it could be harder to explain a regular delivery. And the stores... let’s just say they’re very, _very_ heteronormative. Painfully so,” Kurt admits.

Puck laughs. “That’s an interesting image, blue eyes.”

“Oh, it was frightful,” Kurt says with a laugh of his own. “Just awful, really. Not an experience I particularly want to repeat.”

“Well, you won’t have to,” Puck assures him. “Order complete. Luckily I check the mail most days.”

“And if not, well, it’s nothing your mother hasn’t already seen,” Kurt finishes drily.

Puck winces a little. “This is true.” He shakes his head a little. “Moving on from that, Chicago.”

“Yes. I found what appears to be a good deal. Ninety-nine a night, free breakfast, close to most of what we talked about. We’ll probably want to take a taxi or something to Second City, but we might want to do that anyway.”

“Right, nighttime’s colder, so for cold-blooded creatures like you,” Puck teases.

“Exactly,” Kurt sniffs. “So, shall I do it?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“Check-in December 28, check-out December 31?”

“Yes. Can we fast-forward to December, then?”

“I wish! Okay. I’m using the card my dad gave me for emergencies to reserve it, we’ll just transfer it to a different card or cash or whatever when we check-in.”

“Okay.” Puck grins.

“How was practice today?”

Puck grimaces a little, even though Kurt can’t see his face. “Eh. At least I’m not staying after this week? But I found myself wishing it was Thursday instead, and considering all we’re doing this week is listening to each other sing about stuff that happened forty or fifty years ago, that’s probably not a good sign.”

Kurt laughs a little before sobering. “No, probably not. At least tomorrow _is_ Thursday?”

“Yeah. Oh, hey, make sure Finn reminded your parents that Friday’s an away game, down in New Bremen.”

“Oh, right. You have to ride the bus down?”

“Yeah, we only practice until four, back at the school at five-thirty. You should get the girls to ride with you.”

“Mmm, yeah. This is only the second away game, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, a couple of the schools had some flooding or something, so their fields are out of commission, and then they had some planned renovation up in Van Wert or wherever. So we have two away games out of eight, instead of four.”

“Well, that’s nice for you. I suppose it sucks for Van Wert.”

“It sucks that they have to live in a place called Van Wert,” Puck counters, and Kurt laughs.

“All right, let’s work now,” Kurt sighs. “You’ll keep time for me?”

“I will,” Puck assures him, putting the phone on speaker as they start to work.

 

“Ok, guys,” Finn says, after everyone has gathered around Kurt’s laptop during their Thursday fourth period meet-up. “The moment you’ve all been waiting for! The one, the only, the New Directions for your performance judging approval!”

Kurt snorts and hits play on the first video, “Pretending” starting immediately, and they quickly watch all three songs.

“I think we can all tell which songs _we_ chose and which song _Schue_ chose,” Mike comments.

Finn laughs loudly, then tries to compose himself and keep them on track. “Puck, write ‘sucks less when we pick the songs’ on the white board, ok?”

Puck chuckles and does so. “Can I add ‘no more Guns N’ Roses,’ too?”

“Nothing wrong with some G N’ R, dude,” Finn protests, “but you’ve gotta stick to the good stuff. ‘November Rain’ is awful.”

“We had excellent choreography,” Kurt points out, smiling at Mike. “And we executed it relatively well.”

“Puck can lift Kurt... you should write that down, Puck,” Rachel interjects.

Puck snorts back a laugh but does so. “Can you show us that again?” Mike asks. “Just for teaching purposes, of course.”

Puck looks over at Kurt, who shrugs. “I guess so,” Puck says, and he puts down the marker and moves to a clear space.

“Twelve beats ahead of it?” Kurt asks, and Puck nods. “Finn, tap out the beat, please?”

Finn snags the marker from the white board and uses it to tap out a rhythm on the tabletop. Kurt counts out the beats and they do the steps leading up to the lift, before executing it, Puck thinking once again _oh shit I hope I don’t drop him_ , which he figures he’d probably think every time no matter how many times they did it. They make a full circle before Kurt slides back to the floor and they stop.

Finn immediately starts clapping, awkwardly, because he’s still holding the marker. There’s some other scattered applause before Mike breaks in over the sound.

“How long did you guys practice that? I mean, I’ve never seen two guys manage a lift before.”

Puck looks at Kurt and shrugs. They didn’t really set aside a specific time to practice, they just grabbed a few minutes whenever they had a chance. “Um, maybe 50-75 times?” Puck finally guesses, and they can take that however they want in terms of when they did those times.

“Maybe closer to 85-100,” Kurt corrects him. “As I told Mercedes, it’s really more about arm strength and core strength than the height differential. Or lack thereof. I am _not_ a Munchkin, Finn.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Finn says, not looking sorry at all. “Did they revoke your membership to the Lollipop Guild?”

“At the same time they revoked your privileges to all the Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer,” Kurt smiles sweetly.

“That would hurt if I hadn’t already eaten the rest of mine this morning for breakfast.” Finn grins. “Can we get back on topic now?”

“Well, I think we learned an important lesson, anyway. Who would have thought we could do ballroom dancing to The Killers?” Mercedes points out.

Finn nods. “Mike and Tina, apparently. Good call, you guys. Puck, I think you should put something like, I dunno, ‘taking a chance with choreography’ or ‘choreographing outside the box’ on the board.”

Puck nods and writes the latter phrase on the board as Mike and Tina fairly beam.

“I did like how we each had a little bit of a solo in ‘November Rain,’ despite the overall awfulness of the song,” Artie points out. “And the harmonizing and part singing in ‘Human’ was pretty cool, too.”

“I think we did a good job utilizing everybody’s voice,” Finn agrees. “And you’re right about the harmonies, too. We’re really sounding good. It’s a nice, you know, a nice blend.”

“You two did sound pretty dope, too,” Artie adds, looking between Finn and Rachel.

“Yeah, I mean, I liked it in New York, but that was really awesome, guys,” Brittany agrees.

Rachel beams so strongly that Puck considers checking her for ‘vitamin D’ before letting her out the door. “Really?” she gushes. “Thank you so much!”

Finn ducks his head in an ‘aw shucks’ kind of way and smiles a little half-smile at Rachel. “It’s mostly Rachel. I just do my best to keep up.”

“Don’t be silly,” Rachel says. “It’s a duet, not a solo with backing vocals.” She’s still beaming, though.

“I think a lot of this can be summed up in one word,” Kurt says. “ _Practice_.”

Finn nods and turns to Puck. “I think you can write that up there in all caps, man.”

“Duly noted,” Puck nods, and does so. “Anything else, guys?”

“Yeah, what I’d really like to hear is what, if anything, you spot that needs improvement,” Finn requests.

“We already covered how awful ‘November Rain’ was, but it also didn’t flow with the rest of our set. We have to make sure there’s a good transition between each number both musically and choreographically,” Kurt points out.

Brittany pipes up next. “You should write down that those pants make Finn’s butt look big.”

Puck snorts, and Kurt dissolves into giggles, while Finn glares at Britt and then at Puck and Kurt. “Do _not_ write that, dude,” he snaps, pointing at Puck.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, bro,” Puck protests, all innocence.

 

Puck is, in fact, strangely relieved to stay in the choir room when the final bell rings, and he puts away his guitar and picks out a seat on the back row. The rest of them filter in, Kurt sandwiched between Rachel and Tina as they talk rapidly about something. Quinn walks in after another moment, and Tina gravitates to her, asking her about her college tour.

“Welcome back, Quinn!” Schue announces as he walks into the room. “I hope we have a few people ready to perform?”

“Actually, I am,” Quinn smiles. “I had plenty of time to practice while we were driving between colleges.”

“Great! Let’s hear it!”

Quinn walks quietly up to the front of the room and speaks quietly to Brad before he starts to play the piano.

_Oh yeah! Or is it in his face?  
No girls! It's just his charms!  
In his warm embrace?  
No girls! That's just his arms!  
If you wanna know  
If he loves you so  
It's in his kiss!  
That's where it is!  
Yeah!! It’s in his kiss!  
That's where it is!_

Puck vaguely recognizes the song, but the girls really seem to like it, Tina, Santana, and Brittany all getting up and dancing behind Quinn.

“Great job!” Schue compliments Quinn as the song comes to an end. “That’s a fun number. Is anyone else raring to go?”

“I’ll go,” Sam offers, standing. “Finn and Artie are going to help me out on backing vocals.”

“Cool,” Schue nods, and then the three of them launch into “My Generation.”

_People try to put us d-down (Talkin' 'bout my generation)  
Just because we g-g-get around (Talkin' 'bout my generation)  
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin' 'bout my generation)  
Yeah, I hope I die before I get old (Talkin' 'bout my generation)_

There’s enthusiastic applause, and Mercedes beams at Sam.

“I do think it’s funny that that song is so old now,” Schue muses, and there’s some general laughter.

“I’ll go ahead and go while I’m up here,” Finn offers, and Schue nods.

Finn’s picked out CCR, “Fortunate Son,” and he really gets into it, doing a shuffling step that might almost, _almost_ , be described as a dance.

_Some folks inherit star spangled eyes  
Ooh, they send you down to war, Lord  
And when you ask them, "How much should we give?"  
Ooh, they only answer More! more! more! yoh_

“Ah, what a great song, I heard that all the time growing up. My dad _loved_ CCR.” Schue smiles. “Let’s get one more performance today and then you guys can all head home!”

Santana and Brittany stand up, pinkies linked, and walk to the front. “We’re going to do ‘Unchained Melody,’” Britt smiles, and Brad nods, beginning to play the notes.

Santana begins with the first three lines, before Brittany picks up the next three, and they sing together after that.

_I need your love,  
I need your love  
God speed your love to me._

_Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea,  
To the open arms of the sea, yeah!  
Lonely rivers sigh "wait for me, wait for me"  
I'll be coming home,  
Wait for me._

A few of them pull out their phones and open up the lighter app, swaying a little in their seats, and both Brittany and Santana grin.

“Wow, great job, you too! I wouldn’t have considered doing it with two female voices, but it worked really well,” Schue nods, obviously impressed. He looks around the room. “So that just leaves three of you tomorrow. Have a great afternoon, guys!”

Everyone stands up, some of them in more of a hurry than others. Quinn grabs all the other girls except Rachel as they head out the door; Sam and Artie start arguing about a game on the Wii; and Mike walks out with Mr. Schue, something about ‘auditorium’ and ‘choreographing for auditions’ and ‘keeping the key,’ which is both smart and pretty sneaky, Puck thinks. Finn’s too-casually talking to Rachel, and Kurt’s affecting absorption in his phone until Schue’s safely away, at which point Kurt snaps up and goes to close the door.

“Let’s do this thing,” Kurt asserts. “How should we start?”

“Well, Puck’s already written one verse,” Finn suggests. “Is that part of the chorus or what?”

“It fits with the timing and everything at the end of the chorus, I think,” Puck responds. “Should I play it?”

“I think so,” Rachel nods, and Puck grabs his guitar, playing through, nodding at the portion where he thought the line would fit.

“Then I think we should start with that,” Finn says. “Work on the chorus first. Do you think?”

Kurt nods. “I agree. Puck, can you play just the chorus a few times?”

Puck nods and does so, repeating that portion of the music four times before stopping.

After the fourth time through, Finn makes the face that indicates a little light going on in his head. “I think I have an idea of where this might be going.”

“Okay, anything to write down?”

Finn nods. “Yeah. Possibilities.”

"Let's hear the last three songs!" Schue's practically skipping into the choir room on Friday morning, and Puck doesn't really want to think about why that might be.

"I'd like to go first, Mr. Schue," Mercedes says, rising from her seat. "I went back and forth a lot, but I finally decided to do 'Ooh, Child,'" she smiles.

Puck doesn't recognize the title, but then he recognizes the song once Mercedes starts; one of the groups that did an It Gets Better video sang it.

_Some day, yeah  
We'll put it together and we'll get it all done  
Some day  
When your head is much lighter  
Some day, yeah  
We'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun  
Some day  
When the world is much brighter_

It's a good song, well-suited for Mercedes' voice, and the applause isn't just polite when she finishes. Kurt stands then and takes a deep breath before launching into his song.

The Beatles suit Kurt's voice well, and he manages to make "In My Life" sound both mournful and celebratory, which isn't necessarily the easiest thing to do. Puck smiles to himself, listening to Kurt's rendition of the song.

_Though I know I'll never lose affection  
For people and things that went before  
I know I'll often stop and think about them  
In my life I love you more_

Unsurprisingly, the applause is genuine and lasts for a minute, Kurt's cheeks tinting pink as he sits back down with a slight nod.

"That just leaves you, Puck," Schue adds unnecessarily, and Puck nods as he stands, grabbing his guitar.

Puck had only decided on his song that morning, settling on Simon & Garfunkel from the moment Schue announced the assignment but putting off the selection of which song as long as possible. He starts to play on his guitar, the band falling silent.

_I am just a poor boy  
Though my story's seldom told_

The song is quiet and Puck just sings, not really looking anywhere but down at his guitar, even though he doesn't really need to take a look at it.

_In the clearing stands a boxer  
And a fighter by his trade  
And he carries the reminders  
Of every gloves that laid him down  
Or cut him till he cried out  
In his anger and his shame  
"I am leaving, I am leaving"  
But the fighter still remains_

Puck holds the final chord for a moment, then walks back to his seat, most of the club applauding. Puck wonders if maybe they should stop applauding all the time, even though it's nicer to hear applause than dead silence, or just Schue's comments.

"Such a great job, all of you," Schue nods. "Now, I've been thinking about our performance at Invitationals, and one thing I think we really showed, that not all the teams did, is _heart_. So. That's our theme for next week!"

There's scattered chatter, and Puck watches Kurt lean forward and tap Rachel on the shoulder. "You and me, 'Fidelity,'" and Rachel's eyes light up before she nods.

"Rehearse this weekend?"

"Can't," Kurt's response is automatic. "Monday or Tuesday after school? We'll have to wait and go Thursday or Friday."

"That's fine, yes. Monday." Rachel nods.

"One final thing!" Schue calls out over the clamor. "Be thinking about possible fundraiser ideas. We've got a great start!"

There are a few nods, and then the bell rings, most of the club spilling out towards the cafeteria. Puck groans a little, because fundraising without a doubt means more for him to keep up with. "They're trying to kill me," he whines as he walks out the door with Kurt.

"I know. Why does he think we need to attempt to fit in a fundraiser between now and winter holidays? That's only two months, and we have Sectionals and Thanksgiving before then, too, not to mention if this whole PFLAG assembly thing goes forward." Kurt sighs. "I don't deny that we need to consider fundraising, but at this point, where do we find the time? Oh! And college applications. We can't forget those."

"Oh, god, yeah," Puck groans. "Mannes and MSM are both due on December first. Fuck. I have to submit two scores with both of those. And then there's preparing for the actual live auditions." Puck sighs heavily as they climb into the Nav. "I don't know if I can do all this, blue eyes."

Kurt presses his lips together. "I know."

Puck just blinks. "You know?"

"You're falling apart, baby," Kurt says softly. "You're balancing a harder academic workload than you've ever had, a starting position on a championship football team, working twenty hours a week, glee club, and then add in all the secrets…" Kurt's voice trails off. "I'm just a little worried."

"Damn." Hearing it all listed like that makes it really hit Puck, just how much he's juggling. "What do I do?"

"I don't know," Kurt whispers. He reaches across the console and takes Puck's hand in both of his. "I really don't."

"Something has to give," Puck states, and as soon as he says it out loud, he can feel the truth of it.

"Probably," Kurt acknowledges.

"I just have to figure out what, I guess," Puck purses his lips. Then he looks over at Kurt and half-smiles. "All I know is that everything else can go to hell as long as I got you."

"You've got me," Kurt reassures him, squeezing his hand.

"We should go," Puck sighs. "Dual enrollment can't go, either, unfortunately."

"No, I suppose not," Kurt agrees, and starts the Nav. "Pity."

"Or too bad I can't just get an A in both of them without attending."

"That too."

 

The bus ride to New Bremen feels like an utter waste of time to Puck. There's no way he could accomplish anything in the midst of the bus, and Finn, Mike, and Sam all spend at least half the ride texting their respective girlfriends, who are free to text since they're being picked up and then driven down by Kurt. Puck puts in his earbuds after awhile and starts going through his music on shuffle, looking for something for Mr. Schue's latest assignment.

He also thinks about the conversation that he and Kurt had earlier in the day. It's true, what he said: something does have to give. He's constantly exhausted and he hasn't even touched his college applications in almost a month. And he's not willing to give up any time with Kurt. Even though their trips out of town are probably unwise on some level, they both need them, and they aren't every weekend. Equally, he's not willing to give up the little bit of social time that he does manage to eke out.

School's probably out, too, as tempting as that sounds. He needs the dual enrollment classes and the AP class to balance out his transcript from freshman and sophomore year. He has to take his other classes to actually graduate.

Which leaves glee club, football, and work.

Puck hits his head against the back of the seat, closing his eyes. _Fuck_. There's really only one option on that list.

He'll have to sit on it. Think about it. Talk to Kurt. Maybe talk to his manager and see how his schedule could change. He doesn't want to rush into a decision.

At the same time, it seems like the only possibility. Twelve to fifteen extra hours a week.

It sounds a little bit like heaven.

 

The unfamiliar locker room means there's a little bit of shuffling for lockers, and Puck switches with Finn after the first minute, to put someone else between him and Brown. It still doesn't take him long to suit up, and he's out on the field ahead of everyone. Beiste waves him over.

"Puckerman. This is Paul Clyde. He's the offensive coordinator for University of Wisconsin, here to take another look at Hudson. I told him you'd show him around and introduce him to Hudson after the game."

"Sure, Coach," he agrees, smiling, because it's pretty awesome for Finn that Wisconsin's interested enough to send someone a second time. "Mr. Clyde, nice to meet you," he offers his hand.

"Nice to meet you, too," Mr. Clyde smiles genially. "Your coach tells me that you and Finn Hudson are best friends."

"Yes, sir. Ever since first grade."

"Mr. Cosson came back with a very favorable report, and we've seen some tapes of Hudson's playing, so this is more a chance for me to evaluate his style in the huddle and off the field, as well," Mr. Clyde explains. "We're really trying to recruit student-athletes who contribute in the classroom, on the field, and in other aspects of life of campus. I also want to get a chance to meet his family, if they'll be here?"

"They will be," Puck nods. "I think you're describing Finn to a 'T,' really. He's not just the quarterback."

"Other activities? I think there was a note about glee club, maybe?"

"Yes, sir. Our show choir, New Directions. Finn's pretty much the leader there." Puck looks up in the stands for a moment and notes that Kurt's already there. "Listen, I hate to pass you off, but can I introduce you to Finn's brother and get in my warm-up? I'll come grab you afterwards and introduce you to Finn."

"Sure, sure," Mr. Clyde nods. "Finn's brother, you said?"

"Yeah, technically his step-brother, he's also a senior this year," Puck explains, walking over to the stands and then raising his voice. "Hey, Kurt!" Kurt's head swivels towards him and Puck waves him down. "Mr. Clyde, this is Finn's brother, Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is Mr. Clyde, he's the offensive coordinator for Wisconsin."

"Ohh, great," Kurt smiles. "Finn'll be thrilled that you're here," he addresses Mr. Clyde before nodding at Puck. "Go warm up. Be good."

Puck grins. "I'm always good," he responds as he trots off.

 

The game sucks.

That's not actually true. They win, and by a good margin. Finn doesn't get sacked, he doesn't throw an interception, and generally Finn (and Sam and Karofsky, too) look like awesome players, players that deserve to be recruited and given scholarships.

Puck's game sucks, though. The worst part is that it probably doesn't look that way from the outside. He still has a decent number of yards, he manages to have possession for one of the touchdowns, and no one blames him for the fumble. Even Coach Beiste is muttering about how maybe the ref missed a call on that one, and Puck doesn't bother to correct anyone.

It's not the way he wants to go out, though. If that's what he's doing.

When the game's over, he meets Kurt and Mr. Clyde at the sidelines. "I'll run get Dad and Carole," Kurt says over the crowd, and Puck nods before leading Mr. Clyde through the crowd to where Finn is standing.

"Finn!"

“Dude!” Finn exclaims, expression jubilant. “Great game!”

“You too, man. Hey, this is Mr. Clyde. He’s the offensive coordinator for Wisconsin. Mr. Clyde, Finn Hudson.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Finn says, putting his hand out. “If you were gonna see any game, I’m glad it was this one!”

“My pleasure,” Mr. Clyde smiles, pumping Finn’s hand. “Quite a nice team you have going this year.”

“Thank you, sir. Coach Beiste really turned things around for us when she came on board last year. Couldn’t have done it without her.”

“That’s what I have heard, but it still takes talent and dedication on the players’ parts! Now, I was hoping to meet the rest of your family; I already met your brother.”

“Oh yeah? Hope he didn’t tell you anything too embarrassing about me,” Finn grins.

“I would never, ever mention anything embarrassing about you,” Kurt speaks up, coming up behind Finn, Burt and Carole in tow.

“Great game, honey!” Carole gushes, giving Finn a hug.

“That was quite a throw, son,” Burt says, clapping Finn on the shoulder. “What was that, fifty yards? Sixty?”

Finn blushes a little at Burt’s praise. “Sixty-three, Coach says.”

“Our boys are all so talented!” Carole smiles broadly. “That was a nice touchdown, Puck.”

Puck shrugs a little uncomfortably, but nods his thanks.

“So, Mom, Burt, this is Mr. Clyde, the offensive coordinator from Wisconsin,” Finn says.

“Oh, nice to meet you,” Carole offers her hand, shaking Mr. Clyde’s hand with a smile.

“You hear to see our boy play?” Burt asks, extending his hand after Mr. Clyde and Carole have finished their introductions.

“Yes, sir, real impressed.” Mr. Clyde nods and smiles. “We’re real interested in Finn. In fact, I don’t know if you are all available, but the team’s gonna be playing at Ohio State next weekend, and I have four tickets for Finn’s use.”

“Awesome!” Finn exclaims. “Uh, you don’t think there’s anyway we could get a fifth ticket, do you? So my girlfriend could go?”

“She can have my ticket,” Kurt offers. “No offense, boys, but I really only watch because I actually know someone playing.”

“You sure, man?” Finn asks. “Puck? If you want to go--”

“No, dude, I’m good. Take Rachel.”

“Sweet! Ok, that clears that up, then,” Finn says, pleased.

“I know you guys probably have to get into the locker room and back on the bus,” Mr. Clyde continues, “but let me also mention that we have a family recruiting event next month.”

“In Wisconsin?” Finn asks.

“The fourteenth and fifteenth, yes,” Mr. Clyde nods. “Tell you what, I’ll talk to your parents and let you boys get to the locker room.”

“I should slip off, too,” Kurt addresses them. “I’m sure the girls and Artie want to leave soon.” He nods at Burt and Carole before turning to Puck. “I’ll see you back at the school?”

“Yeah. Be good.”

Kurt smirks and walks away. “I’m always good.”

“A two-day event in Wisconsin?” Carole asks. “Is that over a weekend?”

“I’d be willing to miss school for that,” Finn offers. “Seriously. That would be _fine_.”

“I’m sure you would be, sweetie,” Carole shakes her head fondly.

“It’s a Monday and a Tuesday,” Mr. Clyde explains. “You’d get a chance to meet with some of the current players, do a workout with them, attend a class, and other admissions events. We have sessions for parents, too–and siblings, if you think your brother would be interested.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how interested Kurt would be in going,” Finn says.

“Oh, he’ll be interested in going,” Burt insists, cutting his eyes over to Puck for a moment. “I’m gonna let him know he’s interested.”

Puck manages to keep his face blank, but he supposes it _was_ too much to hope that they’d leave Kurt at home alone for two or three nights. He decides the safest option is to remain quiet and wait for Finn to finish up.

“That sounds cool,” Finn says, smiling and doing his little foot-to-foot shuffle, like an excited four year old. “Can you make sure my parents have all the info for that?”

 

Puck wakes up early on Saturday, restless, and his mom lets him take the car over to Pat's, where he gets a dozen doughnuts for his mom and Hannah and another dozen for he and Kurt to eat on the way to Dayton.

"I wish you'd come with us to services one of these Saturdays, Noah," Rina fusses a little as she accepts the proffered doughnuts.

"Maybe next week," Puck shrugs. "Kurt's getting here at 9:30 today."

"Well, Kurt could come to services with us, you know."

Puck just starts to chuckle. "Mom, Kurt's an atheist. You're probably not going to see that happening."

Rina stops still. "An… _atheist_?" she repeats. "Well. That's unusual."

Puck shrugs. "He has his reasons. Have fun at services."

"Oh, always," Hannah rolls her eyes behind Rina's back, and Puck smirks at her.

"We'll see you later, then, Noah."

"Yeah, okay," Puck nods, already heading towards his room. They'll probably work for awhile in the library near the center, so he figures out what to take and then heads down the stairs with the doughnuts in hand.

The drive is getting almost eerily familiar, and they grab an early lunch before heading to the library. Puck thinks it's sort of funny that he spends any time in the library, since he's probably spent more time in one since May or so than he did the rest of his life all combined.

"I think… I think I'm going to have to quit football," Puck says quietly as they leave the library.

Kurt wheels to look at him, clearly surprised. "Isn't the season almost over?"

"Two more regular season games, yeah," Puck concedes. "But we're already slated for the regional quarterfinal, and if we go all the way like we did last year, the season won't really be over until mid-January. That's two, three more months of twelve to fifteen hours a week, K. I can't do it."

"But?"

Puck half-smiles; Kurt heard the unspoken 'but' easily. "But no matter what, I'm gonna hate quitting something halfway through. And my game sucked last night; I mean, I know it probably seemed fine, but _I_ know it sucked. I hate that being my last game."

"Well." Kurt reaches out and takes Puck's hand, squeezing it gently. "You're going to think about it, I assume. And even if it's your last high school game, there's no rule that says you can't play recreationally."

"That's true," Puck concedes, moving closer to Kurt. "I just don't know what to do, blue eyes."

"You'll figure it out," Kurt says, and the confidence in his voice almost makes Puck believe him. "You will."

"I hope so." Puck slides his arm around Kurt as they walk up to the center building. "Let's hope April hasn't been here since Invitationals."

"Oh, god," Kurt groans. "Can you imagine?"

Before they're through the lobby, though, April's voice rings out. "PUCKERMAN! HUMMEL! I've been telling everyone about your big gay dance!"

"Apparently, we don't have to imagine," Puck says dryly. "We can just live it."

But Puck still gives April a big hug, and doesn't complain too much, because she's pretty awesome, and it was weird having to act like he didn't know her at Invitationals, too. He and Kurt sit in a single oversized chair and Puck, at least, tunes out a lot of the facilitated meeting, which might be about stereotypes. On the other hand, it might be about finding gay-friendly colleges; Puck isn't sure and one way or another neither one is particularly relevant to him. New York City is gay-friendly; it's not really a big deal if one of the other two hundred kids at Mannes is a douchebag. At the moment, Puck's more focused on the fact that he's got Kurt pressed against him, and he doesn't have to move for awhile, or think about anything other than just being with Kurt.


End file.
